Come Fly With Me
by junealondra
Summary: Jacob is devastated after Bella chooses Edward. He wants to die, but instead he runs. Maybe if he runs far enough, fast enough, he can find some place better - somewhere to belong. Maybe he can start a new life. HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Story takes place after the end of _Eclipse_ and disregards everything that happened in _Breaking Dawn_. Italics are Jacob's POV. I'm not sure how long this story will be, but it's shaping up to be more than just a few chapters - anyways, enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I disclaim everything you recognize. It does not belong to me.**

**Betaed by elusivemuse.**

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><p><strong>One.<strong>

_I don't know how long I've been running – days, probably. The hours blend together, into a hazy memory of feet hitting the ground and claws tearing through packed dirt, ripping roots out of the earth. My life has become divided into light and darkness; the only distinction I can make amidst the slowly passing time. Although, more often than not, it's the darkness I'm running through, running to. Subconsciously, I must crave it – its cover, its mask, its comfort. I want to feel the darkness, wrap myself up in it. I want it to take over, so I can feel it forever, never worrying about life again. _

_ I want to run forever, but I can't. I can feel my body slowing down, weary, spent. Too weary, too weary to shake the debris from my scruffy fur – a collection it's picked up on my journey, like souvenirs of where I've been. Thorns, twigs, ticks. _

_ Suddenly, the pain comes back – a pain that's completely unrelated to my wasted body and timeworn joints. It bypasses my splintered paws, my burning lungs, my empty stomach, and cuts a straight line down through the heart. Now that I've stopped running, the physical pain has become muted. Without its distraction, the emotional pain runs rampant. All the thoughts, the memories, everything I've been running from comes rushing back into my head. I see her face, hear her laugh, smell her hair…_

_Bella._

_ I feel stupid. I feel used. _

_ I want to hate her. I want to be able to say, Fuck you! and get on with my life, but it's not that easy. _

_ I want to despise her, for choosing to be with _him_, that filthy, bloodsucking creature. He'll ruin her, he'll kill her… or, worse, he'll turn her into one of _them_. I want to shake her and scream - _Bella! You're so stupid! _Does she really think she'd be happier dead, without a heartbeat? I want to tell her how stupid that is, but somehow, I find myself feeling the same way._

_ The memories come back stronger – we're laughing together, I'm holding her hand, we leap off a cliff together. She's beautiful, inside and out, her smile so gentle, so fragile… Then the horror comes back. I see _him_ touching her, _him _holding her, I hear her crying out _his _name. I can see the predator in him as he looks at her, _tasting_ her with his eyes. It's so wrong, and I have trouble fighting the bile that begins to rise out of my hollow belly. _

_Then an image enters my mind – the one I've been trying to escape: She's standing there, in white - beautiful. Beautiful, but hideous. Her skin chalk white, her dull hair shimmering in a way it never used to, and then her face - it's radiant in a way that's inhuman. I try to fight the nightmare, but I can't. The monster in my mind opens its mouth, revealing shiny, pointed, blood-stained…_

CRASHHH. A huge tree came down in the forest, scattering bits of bark around as it crushed the soft moss that carpeted the ground. In the narrow shafts of light that streamed through the treetops, clouds of dust, pollen, and impossibly small gnats shimmered as they flew upwards from the fallen tree.

Slowly, the particles drifted back down to the earth to settle into their new surroundings. The forest soon became quiet once again, until the only sound was the heavy panting of a lone wolf. But soon, that too became silent as lupine eyes surveyed the destruction of the small glen.

Jacob didn't mean to do it, but as the thoughts and images of Bella and Edward assaulted his brain, his violent wolf-instincts took over and before he knew it, he had created a small haven of havoc in the peaceful forest. Nature; it was supposed to be his escape – where he could take refuge from the complexities of his human life. But now, the mangled branches and uprooted plants mirrored the turmoil beneath his blood-stained fur. He looked at what he'd done: the forest floor looked violently chaotic, like a ballerina with all the grace of a butcher had been enjoying its services, and the trunks of trees were slashed deep with his own claw marks.

_Nothing, compared to what I'd like to do to that filthy bloodsucker. _

For a moment, his breath quickened again, thinking about the creature that had taken his love, his life. But despite his anger, exhaustion won over his violent wishes. He collapsed onto the ground next to the fallen tree, and closed his eyes.

Everything was quiet. Everything was calm.

_Huh, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? _

The silence was bliss and, if only for a moment, he could imagine that none of this had happened. Like he'd never loved her at all, like he'd never phased, like the Cullens had kept their promise and never strayed into the lives of the Quiluete... He closed his eyes, trying to will it all away, but images kept coming. Over and over, he was forced to watch as the scenes replayed in his mind. He couldn't forget it all fast enough.

Finally, he opened his eyes, only to see the wreckage he created falling sideways out of his vision. Even the debris surrounding him, the twisted broken branches, the thorny brambles stained with his own blood - none of it compared to the violent wreckage that was his life.

Jacob looked over at the tree trunk, his wolf's eyes glistening with what would probably have been tears if he were in his human form.

He lay there for a while, until he could no longer stand the sound of silence. Dragging his weary body onto all four feet, he continued his journey away from Forks.

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><p>The next time Jacob stopped, his body was beyond the point of exhaustion. He probably would have kept running if his muscles had been able to support his weight, now shockingly low. He hadn't eaten in weeks. He couldn't. He had neglected his body as he tried to fight the emotional pain - but now his heartbreak, his futile attempt to escape his past life…it was all starting to affect him physically.<p>

He growled at a squirrel that sat a few feet away, burrowing a small hole in the dirt floor. It twitched slightly, scampering a few inches from the wolf, but watched him curiously. The limp, the gasping, the blood: he was weak, and even the squirrel knew it didn't have to fear this predator.

Jacob was sure he could feel a few fractured ribs as he tread carefully through the dry leaves.

_When did that happen? _

Perhaps it was when he stumbled into that badger's den, the small but vicious creature ravaging its passive invader. Or maybe it was just Jacob's own body, making light work of breaking down his tissue and bone in a futile attempt to supply the nourishment he refused to grant it.

Finally, his physical state mirrored the turmoil that was taking place in his mind. The struggle for survival, the fight between what he needed and what he couldn't have.

He could hardly take more than a few steps before his body was racked with shakes and shivers as he shifted unevenly from wolf to human, becoming a motley mix of the two before he fell back onto all fours as a wolf.

He was a grotesque sight; He hobbled around on whatever limbs he had available at the moment, sometimes trudging through the leaves on three paws, dragging a useless human leg behind him. His emaciated body was a sallow yellow hue, with patches of dirty fur creeping up through the flesh along his spine, and deep black holes beneath human eyes.

_Bella…. Bella…. Where are you? Where am I? _

_Bella! _

"..Bella… Bella, please…"

As the hysteria and delusion grew in his mind, Jacob began speaking out loud – calling out, hoping someone might hear him. He looked to the reddish sky, a small line of bloody saliva trickling out of his open mouth, his eyes desperately searching for the sun that would tell him which direction to run - but it had already set.

"Twilight," he chuckled to himself. Then the chuckle turned into laughter - hysterical, maniacal, uncontrollable laughter.

"Oh yeah, bloodsucker? Fuck you! I'll kill you… I'll find… I'll…No, FUCK YOU!"

His laughter became even more manic, and soon tears of hysteria were streaming down his sunken cheeks. The forest he was in had opened up to a field. He could see the red sky all around him, looming, seeming to close in on him from all sides. He felt his skull spinning and with a wicked screech he collapsed into the tall grass. As the echoes of his laughter subsided, Jacob moaned, the emotional and physical pain returning to his body in full force.

"Bella… Bella, please.. please help me…. love me…"

The dark clouds of unconsciousness were just hovering around the corners of his vision when he saw her – more beautiful than ever, standing before him:

"Bella… you came!"

And then darkness.

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><p>Jacob blinked his eyes, squinting into the harsh light of a bare lightbulb hanging from a low wooden crossbar. The ceiling above him was made of wooden beams and logs that made him feel as though he was inside one of those miniature Lincoln Log houses.<p>

_Where am I? _

Trying to take in more of the scenery, he slowly turned his head to the right. But even that small movement left him wincing in pain, and he was only able to catch a quick glimpse of some sparse Native American-style décor paired with natural wood furniture before his focus went hazy and it all swirled into a muddled brown and rust soup behind his eyes.

"Daddy, come quick – he's awake!"

_Who are these people?_

He was lying on a small couch, wearing some worn sweatpants and an oversized flannel t-shirt. He still couldn't see much, but from this new perspective he could neither confirm nor deny his hypothesis that he was, in fact, now sitting in a life-size Lincoln Log cabin. The furniture was plain, a few pale wooden chairs with muted plaid cushions, a wooden t.v. hutch, and a matching coffee table about a foot away from his couch. Through the windows behind the hutch, he could see that it was night – or rather, he assumed it was night because he couldn't make out a thing in the darkness.

He looked past the magazines and papers that cluttered the table, and there, perched in one of the chairs, he saw her, wearing some raggedy grey sweats and a washed-out waffle tee, hugging one of the pale periwinkle cushions into her chest.

It wasn't Bella, but he could see how he had made the mistake: She was average in every way, just like Bella. Maybe she was a bit younger, but she had the same dull brown hair hanging in her face, partially obscuring the matching brown eyes. Her appearance was unassuming – but somehow, comfortable. Familiar.

She turned to look at him, and lock of hair fell out from behind her ear, casting even more of her face into obscurity. He watched as her black-socked toes fidgeted. Then she smiled – just barely – and pulled the sleeves of her shirt down until they covered all but the last knuckles of her fingers.

Before realizing how much it hurt to breathe, Jacob let out a gasp.

_God, she reminds me of her_.

She started to get out of her chair, clearly worried by the wincing and carefully suppressed moans of pain coming from the couch.

Seeing the concern on her face, Jacob nodded a wordless, '_I'm fine'_.

And that's when he noticed. Across her face, and even down her neck, was a gentle array of light freckles. It was the only thing that really stood out about her. Along with her skin's slight sunkissed glow, her freckles gave the impression that she got outside a lot more frequently than Bella did.

_Especially now that the stupid bloodsucker's got her cooped up inside during the daylight_…

Just before the angst took hold and Jacob could start to think about Bella again, a man came bounding into the room, presumably the girl's father. If this girl was Bella's equivalent, her father was nothing like Charlie. His appearance commanded attention: He was a large man, tall, looking a bit like a jolly lumberjack or a happy farmer in a plaid top and worn jeans, and his beard and thick mane of hair were a fiery red that accentuated his fiercely blue eyes and rosy, flushed cheeks.

"Well, well, well. It looks like our sleeping beauty is finally awake! You gave us quite a scare there, son."

_Definitely jolly._

Jacob tried to sit up, presumably to ask what, exactly, was going on, but instead let out a stifled yelp as pain shot through his core.

"Easy there, boy. You're in pretty bad shape. Bells – go make some soup for him, will you?"

"Of course, father."

_Bells?_

Jacob slowly inched upwards, testing out his mobility on the couch. He tried to form words, but his mind couldn't settle into any sort of language. Finally, he opted for a pained expression and a confused moan.

His 'question' got a deep belly laugh from the happy lumberjack, who replied, "I guess you're wondering, 'who the heck are these people' and 'what am I doing out here in the middle of nowheres-ville'!"

It looked like he was waiting for a response of some kind, but Jake didn't know how to react. He couldn't tell if was glad for the man's enthusiastic bellowing that would finally break the monotony of his anguished thoughts, or whether he wished he had been left alone to die outside in the grasses. In the end, his sluggish mind couldn't decide, so he just continued to stare blankly at the man, who was now sitting just feet away on the coffee table.

After a minute or so of silence, the man finally continued, "Well, I'll introduce myself, then - I'm the man who helped save your life! Granted, most of the credit goes to my Bells, who found you out there in the - "

"—Bells?" It was just a whisper.

The giant's face formed an expression of bemusement and he pointed a thumb towards a doorframe Jake could just barely get a glimpse of from his position on the couch.

"Well, yeah, my daughter. Annabel's her name, actually, but mostly everyone around here calls her Bells or Bella… She was upstairs in her bedroom watching the moon come out, and she said she heard a voice calling out to her. Well, she followed that voice straight to you, and sure enough, you were calling her name. Hell, you were even saying while you were sleeping…"

He kept on with his animated speech, but Jacob barely heard it. He was trying to figure out what was real…

He'd seen Bella the other night, he was _sure _of it. Even if it was just a hallucination, or a vision of death beckoning him to the next life –it was Bella, Bella Swan. It had to be, right? Because there was something so familiar about her, the way she'd made him feel, the way his labored heart started pounded in his ribs, the way –

The deep bellowing voice pulled Jacob out of his thoughts. What was he saying? "...So anyways, unless I'm mistaken, she doesn't know you – so I'd like to hear about this Bella girl and what kind of extraordinary coincidence brought you out to the boonies and onto our doorstep!"

Jacob closed his eyes. He couldn't make sense of it. _Coincidence? Or some cruel twist of fate? Is this a blessing, or just another taunting? _

He turned away, pushing his head to the left and into the musty couch. His actions said what his mind was thinking: _I was in love with her. But that was a different lifetime… I'd rather not talk about it._

At that moment, Annabel came back into the room, her hair swaying softly while the soup bowl rattled dangerously on the tray she held. Jacob pulled his head out from he cushion and looked up at her. She had a slight bounce in her step and an inner buoyancy that made Jake wonder how he had confused her with Bella at all. They might have shared some physical characteristics, and maybe a few nervous mannerisms, but this was nothing like the Bella he knew – the one who needed protection, that needed love, that needed _him_…

But then suddenly, as he was looking at her, something changed. Somehow, he really _saw _her. He saw the joy and hope in her brown eyes, but also the longing for something more. He saw the memory of what was, and the sadness for what would never again be. He saw the shimmer of her hair, the curve of her lips. There was the potential for laughter, for sadness, for growth, for nurturing, for lust, _for love_. He was looking into her soul and suddenly he knew it was happening; what he had wanted to happen so many times before, it was happening now, but with the wrong person.

She smiled, her freckles gathering around her nose, and a small light growing within her chest. The light grew until it was all that Jacob could see. He was blinded for a moment, and then, Jacob felt his heart beat; a single pulse that pushed a new longing through his veins, and then finally, he could see again.

"I hope chicken noodle is alright!"

Jacob felt like he was going to be sick.

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><p>AN: So, I originally posted this story a few weeks ago, but - with the help of my new, lovely beta **elusivemuse**, I've made some significant changes to the piece. I'll be returning to Chapter Two to do the same, and then after that you can expect to see some new chapters (hopefully, on a _semi-regular_ basis, too).

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think - the good, the bad, and the ugly, I'll take it all :)


	2. Chapter 2

He knew about imprinting from all of his pack-mates back on the res. He knew how it often defied logic and had the tendency to create complicated situations - but he still wasn't prepared for the anguish he was already beginning to feel. Jacob was drawn to this girl, this Annabel… and it was only making it more difficult to deal with his feelings for Bella.

Annabel stood in front of him with the bowl of soup.

"Are you okay?"

Jacob's body was shaking. He tried to draw his eyes away from her face, but he couldn't. At this point he was delirious. Even as he tried to pull his gaze away from Annabel's face, it shifted, becoming Bella's face, only paler, and with a grotesque beauty that gave away her vampiric form.

"Hey… are you okay?"

Her pale face suddenly began to melt and morph and Jacob's instincts once again went into fight-or-flight mode. He could feel his body shifting into his wolf's form, but he couldn't stop it. He heard a crash and the sound of toppling furniture, followed by a banshee-like shriek. Once again, blackness washed over his senses, and he was out.

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><p>"No, we don't know what to do… he won't eat… No, we don't even know his name. John – I don't think we can take him to a hospital at this point. No, he's in and he's out and he's... I don't know what's best…. I just, I think he needs to see Kim… Oh wait, I think he might be awake – Just send Kim over, <em>please<em>…"

Jacob opened his eyes. He saw the redheaded giant place the phone back into its cradle on the wall, and watched him walk over to the couch. He was holding a cup of something… tea? broth? He looked worried.

"Drink this."

The man helped Jacob sit up and propping him up on some pillows as he handed him the blue tin mug. Jacob looked at the unappetizing green color of the liquid in the cup as he swirled its contents, but he brought the cup to his lips anyway. As soon as the liquid touched his mouth, he couldn't put the cup down. Despite its foul, bitter taste, his body craved the concoction and he didn't stop gulping until every last drop was gone.

"More?"

Jacob nodded eagerly, some strength slowly returning to his body.

"I'll be right back."

Jacob looked around the room. He was still on the couch, but he was in different clothes than before – a different flannel shirt, and some canvas pants that fit his lean body a little better. And instead of coming from the bare bulb hanging from a low wooden beam in the ceiling, light came streaming in from a huge window across from where he was sitting. He wondered for a moment how long it had been since he had… What had actually happened? He remembered a scream, and before that…

_Annabel_. Where was she? Suddenly, Jacob felt a longing, an emptiness that he hadn't noticed before.

The redheaded giant came back in with the mug and Jacob quickly downed a second helping of the green-gray liquid.

The man sat down in a chair next to the window, and the two men looked at each other for a while. The jolly twinkle in the man's eyes was gone, but he gave Jacob a weak smile anyways.

"So, we haven't actually been introduced, I guess. I'm Morgan, Annabel's dad."

"Jacob Black." The sound of his own voice surprised him – raspy, frail, unused. He cleared his throat. "I'm from Forks."

"Forks? Forks where?

Jacob was surprised. He knew Forks was a small town, but most people had at least _heard _of it after all the trouble the Cullens had stirred up in the last year or so.

"It's just a ways off from Port Angeles."

"Wait - Port Angeles, _Washington?"_

There was an awkward pause and Jacob shifted uncomfortably.

"….Yeah. Washington. Forks, Washington."

"…"

"Morgan – where am I?"

"You're in Sioux Country. This is Minnesota."

_Min-Minnesota? Is that even possible? How long was I actually running? It felt like maybe a week or so, but…Minnesota?_

Jacob looked down at his hands. For the first time, he noticed the poor condition his body was in. His fingernails were ripped and cracked, and dark, dried blood lay in the creases of his nailbeds. There were scratches, in various stages of healing, running up and down his sunburnt arms. Some just thin lines, others deep ragged gashes that he couldn't remember feeling until just now.

"Unghhhhhh…"

Jake let out an unexpected and uncontrolled moan as the pain suddenly hit him. Everywhere - cuts, scratches, burns – all over his body… But the worst pain was focused in a thin line drawn from his right scapula over his shoulder and to the edge of his collarbone. He reached his left hand over to feel the damage and winced as his fingers brushed over fresh stitches.

_What's happening to me? What am I doing… No, what am I _going_ to do now?_

He felt like he was just waking up after some horrible, fevered nightmare…Suddenly everything came back into focus, the pain, emotional _and _physical, the memories, and the lack thereof. He remembered wanting to see Bella, wanting to die, finally giving in to the exhaustion and pain, and then waking up here, in the most unlikely of places.

BAM!

Somewhere behind the couch, a door slammed open. Morgan jumped to his feet, rushing over to the sound. From where he sat, Jacob couldn't see what was going on, but with his keen hearing he could sort of imagine the scene. _One truck, two people… One's a woman?_ There was chattering, and general clamor, like the sound of boxes or equipment being moved. Then the door slammed again, this time followed by an angry voice.

"MORGAN! I don't know _what _you're thinking…. You know this is only going to be trouble, and I don't know _why _you're dragging me into this nonsense. You should have – "

"What? Did you want to me to toss him out into the wild to _die_? He's just a –"

"Actually, yes. That's EXACTLY what I would have done. Jeez, you just _don't get it_, do you? This is not going to turn out well for anyone. We should just end it now."

There was an awkward pause… filled with intention, and, Jacob could imagine, meaningful looks being tossed across the room. Finally, a third, calmer voice entered the fray.

"Why don't we discuss this outside you two, hmm?"

Jacob heard the door slam shut and sighed. A pained smirk crept onto his face.

_Everywhere I go I seem to cause problems_.

There was a shuffling sound from the next room, and Jacob looked up to see…

" –Oh, it's you."

There she was. Annabel… She was standing in the shadows of a doorframe, just out of sight.

"Sorry about all of them, they're good people, you'll see. Things are just… a little confusing right now, you could say."

She lips formed a kind smile as she stepped forward into the living room. Jake let out a small gasp.

"You – You're… What happened to you? Are you alright?"

Her torso was wrapped up in a white bandage, and there were some cuts on her face that looked eerily like claw marks. Jacob instantly thought of Emily. _Did I somehow do this?_

Annabel continued to smile and waved away his concern with a small hand.

"Oh, I'll be fine. You don't have to worry. I just came to see how _you_ were doing – I suppose you're in a lot of pain? I can help fix that – I brought my medic supplies!" She held up a small black tin Jake hadn't noticed before. "People around here are _always _finding some way to get into trouble, so I've had a lot of practice at sewing people up."

She walked over to the couch where Jacob was sitting, her bunny slippers shuffling along the wooden floor. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a baggy plaid flannel shirt. _Seriously, what is up with this family and flannel?_

Jacob tried to stay calm, but he could feel his chest beating. He was nervous, but he didn't know why. As she came closer and closer to where he lay, it was as if there was some kind of magnetic pulse between them – his hairs stood on end, and he got chills even as his skin became flushed.

She came right up to the couch and – _plop!_ Sat down right on top of his bare exposed feet, her hand resting on one of his calves. Jacob let out a gasp as they touched, not because of the emotional current that it sent hammering through his body, but rather the physical pain that shot up from his feet to his shoulder.

"OWW! Are you serious? That _huurrrrt_!... OW!" Jacob looked at her with both shock and mild infuriation (he had a temper after all). Bella would probably have gone on apologizing for being clumsy or clutzy, and because of the uncanny similarities between them, Jacob naively thought this Annabel might be the same way. Wrong.

"Wait, no… Are _you _serious? I thought you were this 'tough guy'? You can handle a little love bump. Suck it up - Frankenstein." Her eyes twinkled as she crinkled up her nose and laughed.

Somehow, Jacob found himself smiling too. Banter, he could do banter.

"Frankenstein? What's up with that nickname? By the way, have you looked in a mirror recently? You should really get that checked out. Your face, I mean."

Annabel just smirked, clearly pleased with this response.

"I think _you're _the one who hasn't been near a mirror recently. Have a look." She tossed him a small round pocket mirror she had pulled out of the black tin. Jake caught it, just barely, and gasped as he looked at his face.

He really _did_ look like Frankenstein. His face was a horrible yellow, and covered in cuts, just like his hands and feet. His hair was dull, matted and clumpy – parts of it stuck together with what he assumed was dried blood. One of his ears looked as if it had been ripped in half at some point, and was now held together only by some stitches.

"Pretty gross, huh? But don't worry about it, I'll fix you up good as new!" She smiled a wide smile, but Jacob was suddenly wary as he glimpsed what was in her tin.

"Oh my god, please tell me you're not going to use _that _stuff to try and heal me…"

In the tin, Jake could see a tub of Vaseline, some colorful band-aids, and a vast assortment of needles and threads.

"Mm-hmm! It's also my sewing kit!" Annabel winked at him, and suddenly Jacob's heart was beating faster – and not because he had imprinted on her.

"NO! Stay away – there's absolutely no _way_ I'm letting you near me with that stuff." He tried vainly to move away, but his body was in pain and refused to comply.

"Oh please, it's not _actually _a sewing kit. Don't worry, I'm actually really good at this type of stuff. Trust me." She looked up at him, her brown eyes earnest, and he slowly nodded his head.

"Great! I'll go get a towel really quick, I'll be right back!"

As Jake watched her bound off into the next room, he sighed.

_I wonder how this is going to turn out…_


End file.
